


Tomorrow

by casinoday (ribcagedrafts)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Multi, Spideypool - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribcagedrafts/pseuds/casinoday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, more often than usual, he’d start thinking about his deceased parents, and wonder what would have been of him if only they weren’t dead when he was so young. If only Peter was never bitten by a ridiculous arachnid who might as well had cursed him with the worst fate the universe could possibly concocted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow

_He shifted in his sleep. Opened his eyes. Turned around. He could see Gwen. Her soft thick eyelashes fluttering in her sleep, silky strands of blonde hair falling down to frame her face. He could make out her profile, the defined cheekbones down to her jaw, the pointed nose, the sharp chin. There were moonlights straying in from outside the thin curtain, highlighting her plump cheeks just enough for him to see the softness of her skin, just with a few stray freckles decorating her lovely face._

_He thought about it, imagined what it would be like if she woke up right then, maybe she’d turn around and greet him with those beautiful **ocean** blue orbs. He wondered if she’d smile, or if she’d frown, delicate eyebrows turning down when she asked why he wasn’t asleep. He’d smile at her, telling her it was nothing, he was just being silly, feeling nostalgic, because he couldn’t remember the last time he ever fell in **love** for a girl this hard._

 

—

 

During the time when he was in high school, there was this special girl.

It’s not Liz, Flash’s petite girlfriend, who insisted on calling him the silly nickname “Petey”, therefore causing him to get dunked head first by the jocks into the toilet bowl. (As they acclaimed, the only nickname suited for him was “Puny Parker”. Peter couldn’t deny, he really was pretty skinny as fuck back then. He probably still is.)

It’s also wasn’t sweet Mary Jane, who was auntie Anna’s niece, who walked around the neighbourhood looking like a professional model (she weren’t a pro back then though, she probably is now), flirted with him openly while also flirting with several other guys at once. (Seriously, the freckles were sweet, and redheads are hot, totally Peter’s type, but Mary Jane wasn’t exactly the type of girl whom Peter liked to date. Sorry Aunt May.)

Nor was it Betty, Peter’s (still hot) ex-girlfriend, who worked at the Daily Bugle with him, and had stood up for Spiderman when he was unfairly accused of crimes Peter wouldn’t even dared to think of. She too, in the end, had abandoned Peter to date another co-worker named Ned (who was an asshole, really), and they were probably married by then. (Peter didn’t care.)

It was this other _other_ girl, the Black Cat, with the green eyes, and platinum blonde hair. She never really known him, nor did he ever known her. They met, they talked a bit, maybe he got her out of her criminal activities, and maybe they had a little something going on. Peter was never sure. When it came to her, a lot of things were unsure. They flirted, he graduated high school, she didn’t come to the rooftop as often anymore, and he went to Empire State University and met Gwen Stacy. They never had anything anymore.

It wasn’t until that time, when he shot his web to grab Gwen’s ankles, the painful view of her body twisting and her neck **snapped,** and the moment he hold her corpse in his arms. It was eerie. Frightening. And he hated himself more than anything. He breathed in air and he puffed out poison. He killed everyone around him.

His parents. Uncle Ben. Captain Stacy. And then Gwen.

Mary Jane put her hands around his shoulders, told him that it all would be okay, and that he had her if he ever needed someone. He thanked her, hugged Aunt May, and he stayed back a few hours after the funeral to wept again.

—

Some days, more often than usual, he’d start thinking about his deceased parents, and wonder what would have been of him if only they weren’t dead when he was so young. If only Peter was never bitten by a ridiculous arachnid who might as well had cursed him with the worst fate the universe could possibly concocted.

_‘With great power comes great responsibility,’_ his uncle had said. It might have been a warning. This burden was too heavy for Peter to carry. And he wanted to give up, give up being Spiderman. Start actually living his life. But he didn’t remember a life without being Spiderman, or a live without Gwen Stacy in it. He never had any.

—

Felicia—“Felicia Hardy”—, the Black Cat, had beautiful hair, Peter noticed. He could slip his fingers through his hair, turn his head a little and kiss her deeply, and it felt really soft in his grasp, even with his spiderman gloves on. _[The platinum of her hair was like the reflection of the moonlight.]_

It was amazingly easy, being with her. She’d moan softly into his mouth, and he’d pretend he wasn’t Peter Parker, that he was just Spiderman. Because that’s who Felicia was in love with. She was in love with Spiderman, the hero of the city, (the mayor of the rooftops, according to Foursquare) and not fragile human being Peter Parker.

_Again he kissed her, and he forgot how long he had been doing the same old routine. It broke his heart a little when he pulled back, and see how her eye colours were **wrong.** Hers were the green of a forest, like deep beautiful emeralds glimmering in darkness, while he expected to see [that shade of blue,] the gentle, ever forgiving color of the **ocean.**_


End file.
